Welcome to the Art Against Mental Illness podcast. My name is Alex Loveless and this is my podcast about the healing powers of art. For artists, art lovers, the art curious, and anyone with an interest in mental health and well being.
Hello and welcome back to my studio in deepest, darkest central Scotland. Last episode I talked about getting started and how difficult that can be sometimes. This time I’m going to talk about what you do once you’ve got started, either at the beginning of your creative journey or the next phase or even your next artwork.
Now, I wasn’t intending for this to get all deep and philosophical, but when I was writing the notes for this, that’s basically what happened.
So strap in, here goes. So I’m going to talk about process. I’m not massively comfortable with that word. It’s not terribly sexy. In fact, it’s quite the opposite, but it seems the most appropriate word. And I guess the fact that process tends to be a bit of a dirty word is what I want to talk about. So it’s probably a good idea to start by stating what I mean by process. So I Googled the definition and the first one that came up was a systematic series of actions directed to some end.
Which is likely a definition we can all agree on. You might think this is a pretty good summary of the subjective experience of making artwork, although I don’t take issue with it per se. The spirit of the definition is what I take issue with. I take issue with the idea that a series of actions and the end point are in any way different.
You may think the purpose of the creative process is to make stuff, which is definitely true to a degree. But what I want to talk about is how important the process of making that stuff is, both in general and in terms of the therapeutic value of art. It’s my belief that the journey of creation is perhaps the most important thing as far as mental wellness is concerned.
Now this might seem like something that should only concern experienced artists. But as a beginner or an enthusiast, understanding the value of process, the whole process, will make your progression easier and so much more rewarding and beneficial. This means leaning into process as part of the creative and healing journey, seeing the whole process as part of the finished product, and understanding that that product is never really finished.
How I think about process is informed by Zen Buddhism. Zen and Buddhism in general recognizes in the most literal sense that there is and only ever was one moment, and that moment is now. Much of what we think of in the West as mindfulness derives from this concept. If you spend your whole time dreaming about something you’ll be doing in some future time that you really want to be doing, you are committing the cardinal sin in Buddhism, which is
wasting only moment that actually exists.,
which is right now. Everything you ever did, all the past nows exist just to get to this now. Everything. So while you might be on your dream holiday right now in the Maldives, there was a now three weeks ago where you were sitting in the freezing house eating stale cornflakes and lukewarm milk, where you were preparing for now.
And likewise this moment on the white sandy beach is preparation for the next cold every moment is preparation for every other moment.
So what does all this have to do with making art? Well, put simply, you may think that the only moments you’re making art is when you’re sat in front of the easel or prancing around with your 3000 quid SLR.
But assuming you actually make some art at some point in the future, you’re in the process of making that art right now, even if you’re sitting on the bog. The point is that Any of the process is all of the process and since you can’t produce that work of artistic genius without having eaten, then eating was part of that process.
Zen Buddhists take this concept really seriously to the point where Zen’s primary text, Master Dogen’s Shobo Genzo, contains lengthy chapters on eating, getting dressed and going to the toilet.
So do you need to include taking a dump in your creative process? Maybe. The stuff you certainly should include is cleaning and tidying your art studio, washing brushes, Taking a walk on your own, journaling, hanging artworks, having a run, anything that gets you further towards the next point in that process.
My point is, if you’re rushing through the preparatory stages of making something with gritted, impatient teeth, then you’re not only making yourself needlessly miserable, you’re actually doing it wrong.
It’s all matters. In the context of art as therapy, this is a hugely important concept. A moment resented is a moment of potential healing wasted. And another little cut to add to the thousands you already have. I learned to love all the nitty gritty of the process of making art.
Actually, I didn’t learn to love sweeping the floor of my studio. I learned I already loved it. That feeling of frustration or impatience I had was created by the false belief that the only time I was actually making art was when I was in front of an easel with a paintbrush in my hand.
Think of it like when you have a really tasty sandwich ready to eat and you’re looking forward to it but then it’s finished and you didn’t notice because you were too busy answering some BS work email or whatever. Maybe once in a while you stop to think, I’m sure I really enjoyed that sandwich, but I don’t really remember eating it at all.
Most of the time the memory of that awesome sandwich is entirely gone. It was just another step on the journey to doing whatever supposedly important thing you thought you were supposed to be doing. But maybe eating that sandwich was the best part of your day, and to all intents and purposes you missed it.
I love tidying my studio, but I don’t do it a lot. I used to think that this is because I’m lazy, which is sort of the case, I am a bit. But I’m also usually quite busy, and prioritise making art, assuming that the studio isn’t too messy to do that. But these days I like to think that I save it for the special occasions when I’ve really got the time to appreciate it and having a tidy studio is such a gift so much so that it’s often been an impetus to make more cool stuff. Once it’s tidy, when you think about it like that, It’s obvious that tidying the studio is part of the creative process, not an impediment to it.
What we’re saying here is that the process and the product are the same thing, which makes sense when you think about it. The process is right there on the canvas or the page or the camera. Along with all the other bits of you from your life experiences and stuff you experienced that day and all the other things you were thinking about at the time.
I recently worked on a commission while listening to the audiobook of The Great Gatsby and you can bet bits of that found itself smeared all over the canvas, literally in some cases since I actually printed out some bits of text from the book and glued them to the canvas.
So if you agree with my core thesis that art is therapy, and that all these other apparently non art related tasks are actually part of the art, then by embracing this you’ve literally increased your quota of daily therapy by really quite a lot your brushes as a chore and see it as a beautiful gift. This applies even when you’re feeling really low. Perhaps solo you can’t find any creative energy at all. Fairly recently I found myself in a very dark space and somehow couldn’t find the mental space to create anything new.
I just went into my studio and started tidying and rearranging. It was such an immersive activity that the problems receded into the background. I think I started the task out of indignation that I let my studio get into such a state, but I soon started really enjoying it. stepping back at the end to a tidy studio which I had seemingly conjured to be, double the previous space out of felt like such an achievement. It was like I’d done the same thing to my brain.
There’s also the idea that all your works are interlinked anyhow, , there’s likely to be a progression through your artworks, from the , very first one that you made, right through to whatever you’re doing now, and there’s a thread there, there’s a story, and That story really matters.
You can’t ignore all the things that happen between each artwork.
All these things were part of creating each one of those artworks and part of the creative progression that people will observe from one to the next. They may not be there watching you clean your brushes or stretching a canvas, but they are there in spirit in what you bring to your artwork and the process that you went through to make that.
but all of these things add up to make something that I’m proud of. reach other people and to communicate with them. That love of every part of the process will show in each final work in terms of its quality, in terms of its creativity, in terms of its attention to detail, in terms of its spirit and passion.
So what they see really is a version of your process sped up, but it’s all there. They may not see every little thing that you did, but they will look at every little detail on that canvas, and it will mean something to them.
Anyway, I could get lost in explaining the Zen ness of all this way of thinking. If you really follow and extrapolate my logic here, you get into some pretty hardcore philosophical territory, which is the very essence of Zen. But this is not a podcast about Zen, although at least a fair amount of my worldview has to some degree at least been informed by Zen, more of this is likely to leak out. So how does this apply to people just starting their creative journey and have yet to develop a process?
Well it’s really quite easy. Developing the process is your process. The same actually goes for experienced artists, because the process never ends. It’s constantly evolving. There is no such thing as becoming a black belt artist.
There’s no highest level. Great masters like Michelangelo and da Vinci never stop. Creativity is all about creating something new, and since the process and product are the same thing, then the process must evolve too. This thinking also maps to the concept of progress. You may think that a stick figure drawing or angsty teen poem is just embarrassing cruft on the path to future greatness, but that supposed dog rule is part of all your future works. I’ll also bet that it’s brimming with ideas and enthusiasm and fear and anticipation and lots of other emotions that you’re going to spend a lot of time as a mature artist trying to force out onto the canvas and many times failing.
It’s beautiful because it is creation. Maybe no one’s going to pay a bunch of money to take your stick figures off your hands, but further down the line, since it will be interwoven into every other piece of work, it is worth something. Maybe this is all a tad abstract and philosophical, but in my mind, it’s deeply and practical and deadly serious.
And the implications are pretty transformative. We’ll revisit this stuff many times in coming episodes, particularly when we start talking about perfectionism and procrastination. Anyway, so today’s homework, your task is to tidy your creative things.
So don’t know what your particular creative enterprise is. I’ll make some suggestions and you can figure out what works for you.
Sort and sharpen your drawing pencils, tidy your studio, organize your poetry folder,
restring your guitar or rewire your effects board
But while you’re doing this, whatever you end up doing, I want you to consider the experience.
Don’t think too hard, just notice how it makes you feel.
I think you’ll find that since you’re spending time with the tools of the activity that bring you joy, you’ll find that this activity brings you joy too.
Okay, that’s all for today. In my next episode, I’m going to be tackling the thorny issue of perfectionism. Thanks again for listening. Goodbye.
If you want to find out more about me, I can be found on Facebook at Alex Loveless artist at Instagram at Alex M Loveless. And my website is alexloveless. co. uk